


Business and Pleasure

by eyemeohmy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Character Death, Fantasy, Gore, Humanizations, M/M, MAAAAAGIIIICCC, Profanity, Sexuality, Squick, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helex thrust an elbow in between Sifon's shoulder blades. The traitor screamed as the pain nearly crushed his spine; he collapsed onto his hands and knees, heaving and shaking. Helex grabbed a fistful of his dark hair, yanked him upright. "St-stop!" Sifon pleaded, tears in his eyes. "P-Please! You've got it a-all wrong! Th-they forced me!"</p><p>Kaon stood before him. "Even if that were the truth," he said, and kicked away Sifon's money bag on his belt, "you still committed very grievous sins against our Lord. For that, you must be punished." He placed one hand over his heart, another up beside him, as if swearing an oath. "Thus, we will begin the ritual."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business and Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Take the Decepticon Justice Division and MtMtE universe in general, and turn them all into humans or wizards or magical creatures in a fantasy world with some Earth fusions. And that is this fic. Specifically, the DJD doin' some dirty work.
> 
> This universe and the designs for the characters were created by [Kad](http://perciwhale.tumblr.com). Please check out her [tag for this TF AU](http://kadsley.tumblr.com/tagged/tf-fantasy-au), so you can get the general idea of the world as well as what characters look like and their powers. Seriously, do this. If you don't, don't read the fic. >=C As such, this fic is dedicated to Kadsley; hope you like. I did take some artistic liberties with the general universe and character traits.
> 
> I wrote this some time ago, but was debating posting it here for a while. [New art surfaced](http://perciwhale.tumblr.com/post/50162256289/one-time-ago-me-and-cataradical-made-a-small) and I just... WELP HERE IT IS.

It was always the busiest on a Friday afternoon.

The tavern was at the very outskirts of the large Primusian city; boasted quite the local color. Most patrons were Primusians; many of them peasants or middle class, though he did spot a duke laughing and drinking it up with a few ladies. The tavern was bright, warm, and friendly. The food was especially nice, but the beer was better; always a discount on Friday afternoon, hence the increase in traffic.

Sifon sat by his lonesome in a comfortable corner, nursing a mug of dark ale. His grin widened as he continued counting and sorting through the thick bills in his hands. The Primusians had paid him quite the bounty for his newest information. Sifon tried to blend in, however, constantly tugging at his glove as if hiding something. He placed his money back in the bag hanging from his belt, returned to his drinking.

A pretty waitress with blond hair, blue eyes, and an hourglass figure was heading his way, and Sifon grinned yellowed teeth. He raised his right hand to gesture her over; first to order food and then, maybe, if the patrons kept minding their own business...

The waitress flashed him a smile. She turned in his direction, removing a small tablet of paper and a pencil. "I haven't seen you around here before," she smirked. "Just visiting?"

"You could say that," Sifon chuckled, sizing her up. "Stopped at your tavern on my way through your lovely city. Was hoping to get some... entertainment while I was here." Before the waitress could say anything, his hand quickly flipped forward, a thick wad of cash between two fingers. The woman's eyes brightened, and she gave a little embarrassed, coy wiggle. Probably just for show; her male patrons often liked the innocent and naive act.

"Why, sir," the waitress giggled, "what sort of entertainment are you looking for?"

"Something that's..." Sifon reached over, dragging the money in a slow line up her exposed calf, higher up beneath her skirt. "Maybe a little risque?"

The waitress pushed his hand away. "Not in public," she whispered and winked. "I prefer to keep private matters behind closed doors."

Sifon grinned. "Sounds good to me."

She nodded in the direction of a small corridor leading into the back of the tavern, reserved for employees only. "So, um," she hummed, and bit and sucked her bottom lip. Eyed him up. "Maybe after you finish your drink, we can go somewhere a bit more private and behind closed doors, yes?"

Sifon's grin turned into a huge beam. "Fuck the drink," he smirked. He stood, placed a hand on the waitress's hip and smashed her petite body against his. She giggled as he peppered her neck with kisses. A few of the regulars were giving the newcomer nasty looks, but they otherwise kept to themselves.

"Oh, sir, please!" the waitress snickered, pawing at his chest. "We mustn't!"

"I doubt your boss would mind. You need a break, don't you?"

"Not for another hour."

"I'm afraid I can't wait that long, cherub."

The waitress arched a brow. "Do you mean to take me over the table... sir?" she whispered, eyes hooded.

Sifon felt a tightness in his groin. "Well, not until now," he leered.

The waitress reclined her head with a purr as Sifon buried lips into the nook between her shoulder and throat. She let him kiss and nip for a few moments before opening her smoky eyes at the ringing of the tavern door's bell. "Your friends are here, sir," she cooed.

Sifon blinked. He raised his head, faced her. Her once innocent smile was devious now. "Wha-- _ou_!" he cursed, and looked down at his gloved hand. There had been a sudden sharp jab of pain, something like slicing, in his palm. Before he could figure out what, he heard them then.

Hard, heavy footfalls. Too strong for an average man. The place was still alive with noise and people drinking, though the sound and merriment drained from Sifon like the color in his face. There was a sudden electric charge in the air, faint, but the hairs on his arms stood up, skin breaking into goosebumps.

Sifon was afraid to turn around. The waitress left him to stand there, rigid and breathing heavily; she gestured the new patrons over. "Please, have a seat," she said, bringing two chairs over to Sifon's table.

"Rai'ma gat." A soft flutter of a laugh. "An elven friend taught me that. Thank you, that is."

Sifon felt like a jolt of electricity had rushed down his spine at that fluid, airy voice. He was swallowed whole by a large shadow, but kept his eyes on the ground. Their feet strolled past him; chairs scratched along the wooden floor. They sat, and one of the chairs creaked beneath massive weight.

"Won't you sit down?"

Sifon shivered. He remained stiff in place before reluctantly and mechanically sitting back in his chair. Hands and eyes still glued on the table. He could see a pair much smaller hands, smoother than his, fold together from the other side.

"It's rather rude, you know. You should look people in the eye when they're talking to you."

Sifon swallowed a lump forming in his throat. His neck cracked as he finally raised his head, faced the music. A rather thin, redheaded man wearing a thick gold visor and clothing suited for the common mage sat side by side with his partner, someone much bigger, much stronger, and weighed down by armor. The half-giant gave a sneer, having to sit forward due to the cloaked contraption on his back.

"What can I get you two gentleman?" the waitress asked, standing nearby.

"Whatever our friend's having," the redhead replied, gesturing to the half-empty mug of beer. His giant comrade nodded in agreement.

The waitress smiled. "Very good. Should be only a few minutes, then," she said. She turned her bright smile on Sifon again. "Another refill, sir?" Sifon slowly looked up at her, expression mixed with horror and sadness, his face turning whiter by the second. "I suppose not, then?" she said, shrugged, and went to fill the orders.

Once the three were alone, Kaon sat forward, resting his chin on his connected hands. "You've been quite elusive, Sifon," he said, smiling. "It took us nearly two months to track you down."

Sifon brought his hands together. Palms were clammy in his gloves. "I... I don't know what you're talking about..." he mumbled, once more refusing to make eye contact.

Kaon tilted his head. "Oh?"

"Look..." Sifon hissed between grit teeth, biting down so hard he swore they would shatter. "Can we... can we not do... business in here?" He glanced at all the smiling, laughing, cheerful patrons.

"Why not?" Helex asked, voice low. "You had some suspicion we were coming for you, Sif."

Sifon scowled. "Look, it's not... We can't do anything. Not with all these... these people around."

Kaon chuckled. "I see," he said. "You think you're safe here, is that it?"

Sifon's eyes widened. "W-What? No--!"

"Good then," the mage interjected. Helex turned and gave a shrill whistle.

All at once, everyone fell silent, sitting down their drinks or dropping their eating utensils. Sifon's heart skipped a beat. A second later, everyone gathered to their feet, collected their things, and left quietly without protest. Even the duke and his lovely maidens. Sifon's eyes bulged from his skull, mouth gaping, until the tavern was empty.

The waitress returned from the kitchen. She didn't seem appalled or concerned that all her customers were gone. Hummed, and looked as if she expected this. She carried two mugs of brew to the table, sat them down in front of Kaon and Helex. "It's on the house," the waitress said. She winked at Sifon, mouthed a "good luck" before exiting with all the others.

Kaon watched as Helex guzzled down his beer, completely laid back. Sifon felt as if he had been thrust into some terrible nightmare world. It took some effort before his wide eyes turned back on the two. "S'good," Helex sighed, having finished the entire mug in one go. He wiped the thick mustache of foam from his lip, gestured to Kaon's drink.

"No, no, you can have it," Kaon reassured, and his companion proceeded to chug down the second mug. The mage grinned pearly teeth at their frightened company. "I'm more of a spirits type, you know? I'm surprised Rosanna didn't bring me something more my taste." He shrugged. "Though I suppose she knew we're here on business."

Sifon licked his dried lips. "Ros... T-The waitress?"

Helex guffawed. "Didn't anyone tell you? We have eyes _everywhere_. Even at the heart of the Primusian kingdom."

"She recognized you the moment you stepped into her tavern. Sent message for us to come clean you up."

"C-Clean me up?" Sifon scowled. "I didn't _do_ anything!"

Helex grumbled, while Kaon just sighed. "It's not nice to insult us," he tsked. "I am the one who collects every bit of information and data on the Marked, you know." He shook his head. "I'm a little offended, actually."

Sifon ground his teeth. Sweat beaded along his forehead. "You... You're mistaken..." he mumbled.

Suddenly, Helex reached over, taking Sifon's left hand in his thick fingers. He gasped as he was jerked nearly across the table, glove ripped free. Helex flipped his over, palms up, exposing a faded, scarred Tronian tattoo. It took him a moment to notice there was a small, glowing gash across the symbol. It must have been the source of his pain earlier.

"Still gonna make an ass of yourself?" the armored man hissed. He shoved Sifon's hand away.

"You may have noticed an occasional pain in your hand for some days now," Kaon explained. "That was a warning sign. The scar manifested itself the moment we arrived."

Sifon shivered. "I... But I..." He looked at his moist palm, shaking; the glowing black scar radiated dull throbs of pain.

"There is no more room for arguing, Sifon," Kaon stated. "You have been marked, and now your time has come."

Sifon's heart was thrashing violently in his ribcage. Suddenly, without thinking, he threw himself back in his chair, flipped the table on the pair. Quickly jumped to his feet and made a run for the door. He glanced back, just once; Helex had crushed the table in half, and... 

Where was Kaon?

"This doesn't help your case, you know."

Sifon gasped, twisted around. Threw himself back some feet. Kaon stood calmly between him and the door, hands behind his back, frowning. "This only makes you seem even _more_ guilty, wouldn't you say?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Sifon shouted. Helex moved over, tossing aside the broken pieces of the table. Sifon felt another rush of adrenaline kick in. Vision clouded, he removed the small dagger hidden beneath his coat, mindlessly thrust it for Kaon's throat--

Sifon was thrown back from the impact the blade made with Helex's steel flesh. It bent and snapped cleanly in half when it crashed into the half-giant's palm, raised to protect the mage. Nothing but a small scratch; didn't even break the skin. Sifon stumbled back, dropped his useless, broken weapon.

"Emotional acts of desperation, fueled by adrenaline, too frightened to think of or consider the consequences. We do receive some retaliation from our targets, yes," Kaon explained. He stepped forward, placed his hand on Helex's palm. "I usually rate them as adorable, pathetic, or funny. Someone formidable, however, is usually quite rare. But for you..." His hand slipped from Helex's; the small scratch was completely healed. "I'd say pathetic, so far. Almost adorable."

Sifon's fear suddenly converted into rage. "Both you bastards underestimate me," he hissed. He reached over his shoulder - Kaon and Helex did not stop him - and removed the hilt of a sword. Swishing it aside, the thick blade unfolded, six feet in length. He gripped it tight, a dark grin spreading along his whiskered face. "I've taken on armies and survived. I've got the blood and souls of at least four hundred Primusians on my hands."

"We would praise you, had you not decided to provide your skills to the Primusians," Kaon replied. "You were once a valuable soldier in the Dark Lord's army. But until recently, you've been selling out vital Tronian information to the enemy. Because of this, one of our Lord's secret underground bunkers was destroyed, and seventy-five of our comrades were killed or captured. And that's only _one_ of your offenses." He frowned. "What happened to you? I am left to wonder. Had you not found the glory and satisfaction you received serving our Lord? Was it not enough?"

"The Dark Lord is losing this game," Sifon growled. "And what is the glory in losing? Maybe you aren't aware of this, seeing as your lot are his lapdogs, but being a Tronian soldier doesn't pay much, you know?" He sneered. "Or maybe you do know. Maybe you're just too stubborn and blinded by your own egos, your own _fear_ , that one day, the Dark Lord will be forced to surrender or be killed, and you will be rendered useless. Losing all the power you hold." Sifon wiped his nose, snorted. "I'm just tryin' to look out for number one. I know you wouldn't care if one, two, Hell, maybe hundreds of your precious toys died. You don't know what it's like, being on the battlefield. What it's like seeing your friends die all around you. You just sit on your makeshift thrones and pretend to be high and mighty, when you're just as expendable as the rest of us!"

Kaon listened closely. "Such a lack of faith you have in our Dark Lord," he said. "And, ah. I am also a words-smith, in my own right. I can read voices and tones like words on paper." He chuckled. "You're lying. You have no sympathy or compassion for your Tronian comrades. You are selfish, and an opportunist. As long as money is being thrown at you, you'll do whatever is asked of you."

Sifon spat, "You know nothing!"

"Oh, but you're so _very_ wrong. It's my job to know these things, remember?" Kaon smiled sweetly. "And I know you did not betray the Dark Lord because you feel he is losing, that you were tired of the war. Before you became a soldier, you were a gambler, and a thief. You can't get the greed out of your veins. You hunger for treasure, for money." He tapped a finger to his chin. "Just like a whore, I would say."

Sifon's vision turned red. Anger once again pushing aside logic. "A _whore_!?" he screamed, baring his teeth. "You obnoxious little piece of _shit_!" Sword raised, he charged.

Helex went to step in, but Kaon placed a hand to his arm. He looked down at his partner, who shook his head. The half-giant stepped back, and Sifon was about to run his sword through Kaon's chest--

The mage moved aside, darted past, and Sifon's sword was buried deep into the tavern door. He growled, tried to yank it free; he heard a snap of fingers behind him, didn't register the noise-- The blade then snapped completely in half, and Sifon fell back, eyed the clean edge of his broken sword. What felt like a small jolt of electricity ran up the shattered blade, into his hands, forcing him to drop it.

Sifon turned horrified eyes on Kaon behind him. "How did--!?"

"Sit _down_."

Helex thrust an elbow in between Sifon's shoulder blades. The traitor screamed as the pain nearly crushed his spine; he collapsed onto his hands and knees, heaving and shaking. Helex grabbed a fistful of his dark hair, yanked him upright. "St-stop!" Sifon pleaded, tears in his eyes. "P-Please! You've got it a-all wrong! Th-they forced me!"

Kaon stood before him. "Even if that were the truth," he said, and kicked away Sifon's money bag on his belt, "you still committed very grievous sins against our Lord. For that, you must be punished." He placed one hand over his heart, another up beside him, as if swearing an oath. "Thus, we will begin the ritual."

Helex lowered his head to Sifon's. "Judgment time," he snickered, excited.

Kaon bowed his head. "I call upon the southern wind, the blackness of night, the shadows that hide us, the fires that cleanse us of our enemies, the very blood that surges in our Tronian veins, to witness, hear, and carry this message: Those who betray the Dark Lord betray all that lives, all that is just and true. May this Marked one, he who goes by the name of Sifon, be made known for his treachery."

"Gets kind of rambly, I know," Helex whispered around Sifon's moaning.

"... that the comrades of those he betrayed, those alive and those who have passed from this coil, be comforted and rest peacefully with the knowledge of his punishment. Let this traitor serve as a warning for those who would dare defy and turn their backs on the Dark Lord. May his ashes be carried on the southern wind into the cold ice of the seas beyond. May the blackness of night haunt him. May the Tronian blood on his hands choke and suffocate him. May the fires of Prodotis, the ring of Hell designated for traitors, burn him alive. And m--"

There came a small stirring of noise from across the room. Helex was about to gather acid, but Kaon raised a hand. "No, no," he said, calmly, "there is no danger."

Sifon and Helex watched as Kaon crossed the room, cautiously moved aside chairs. He smiled widely. "Aww, as I suspected." Squatting, he very carefully picked up the frightened, dirty old cat. Its ears were pinned back, green eyes wide; the moment Kaon lifted it from the ground, it hissed and writhed, tearing claws through both the gloves and skin of the mage's hand. Nonetheless, he held the spitting cat to his chest, stroked its head. It batted at his face, but could not reach; however, it settled after a few more strokes, stiff and growling deep in its throat.

"You shouldn't be here. You were suppose to leave with the others," Kaon chortled. He turned back and then held the furious cat out to Helex. "Please see this gentleman outside and out of harm's way."

Helex just shrugged and took the cat. It dug its nails and fangs in his mighty hand, only to chip and break a few of them. The half-giant couldn't feel a damn thing, anyway. He turned to the nearest window, opened it, and gently tossed the cat outside. Brushed his hands off alongside one of the cat's broken teeth.

Sifon was both awed and confused. What the Hell just happened?

Kaon smiled at him, raising his hands. The cat scratches were gone. "We have our soft sides, too, you know," he said.

Sifon found that hard to believe, despite what he had just witnessed. 

Kaon clapped and looked to Helex. "I suppose we can just skip the bulk of the Condemnation, go right to the end?" he suggested.

Helex nodded vigorously. He was getting really, _really_ bored.

Kaon snapped his fingers at Sifon. "Hands behind your back," he ordered. The traitor remained rigid, partially because he was still in shock. Helex grunted and grabbed his arms, yanked them behind his back. Managed to pull one from its shoulder socket, and Sifon hissed. "Keep them there. Trust me, it's for the best," the mage insisted.

Helex gave Sifon's arms one last warning jerk - pain bursting in his dislocated shoulder - before letting him go and stepping back. Kaon stood beside him. "I will now read off your transgressions that close your Condemnation." He started moving then, around the traitor, like a predator circling its prey. "First offense: you provided the exact coordinates and time of attack of your fellow Tronians to the Primusians for a fee. Out of sixty Tronians, only four survived." He walked smoothly around him, to his right side. 

"Second offense: you met with a Primusian nobleman with information on our secret underground bunker in Southward. The Primusian paid you handsomely. All the comrades at the bunker were killed the following day." Kaon moved back around and in front of Sifon again. He tried to block out the mage's words, yet couldn't help noticing... The fingers on Kaon's right hand were twitching. Very minutely, but in a pattern, before he was once again behind him. He glanced a quick look at Helex, drinking down a mug of beer that had been left behind. Watching with unblinking, bright eyes.

"Third offense: when confronted for your involvement in the bunker assault by two of your own comrades, you were quick to kill them. You sold their armor and valuables to a Primusian," Kaon said, circling back to his other aside. "Your fourth and final offense, the one which provided you with more money than ever before, was leading the Tronian warlord, Jhiaxus, to his death. Primusians had been waiting, and ambushed the moment you arrived. You fled the scene, but returned for payment."

Sifon flinched when Kaon pressed the edges of his fingers ever so gently against the back of his head. Dragged them around, past his ear. "The names of these victims, the names of the men you betrayed and killed," he said, his fingers gliding over Sifon's eyes and mouth, "are thus." 

The moment his hand moved away, a sudden explosive burst of pain struck Sifon in the back of the head. He screamed, tears instantly welling in his eyes; in his mind's eye, he could see every single Tronian that died because of his greed and treachery. Not just their faces, but the ways they died, their names flashing and searing in red and white.

Veins bulged from his forehead and throat, his face turning red and strained. Kaon had been standing behind him, waiting. He glanced to Helex a moment later, nodded. The half-giant threw aside the empty mug, let it shatter against the wall. He grabbed one of the nearby chairs and dragged it over, sitting it some feet in front of Sifon, still seizing in a painful fit.

Kaon took a seat on the chair. Sat poised and proper, hands resting in his lap, folding one leg over the other. "That's enough," he said, and instantly the images and pain stopped. Sifon threw his head forward and promptly vomited; not only the contents of his stomach, but bile and even a little blood. Kaon allowed him to finish hacking until he was simply dry heaving, slumped against the floor.

Helex chuckled as he picked up a half-empty mug of ale from another table. "Here, this'll help calm your nerves, Sif," he said. He poured the ale over Sifon; down his head and back, his arms still limp behind him. Helex guffawed as the traitor just laid there, still panting, soaked with the sticky liquid and sweat.

"Come now," Kaon hummed softly. He reached out a boot, pressed it beneath Sifon's chin. Helped to very gently lift his head up and back. Sifon looked miserable, pale and sickly. "We're not done yet," the mage said, giving a quirky, small smile. Sifon gagged as Helex forced him up into a full sit.

"Wh... whatta gonna do n-now...?" Sifon groaned. "T-talk me t... to death?"

Kaon laughed. "Still some fight in you. Good!" He opened his hands. "But no, that's more Tarn's deal, you see. Actually, I'm springing my trap." He snapped his fingers, and Sifon gasped as sudden golden strands of energy appeared, wrapped around him, binding his arms behind his back, going up his torso, around his throat, two of the thin, glowing lines across his eyes and mouth. He went to struggle, but the slightest movement sent the binding cords cutting through clothes and even skin. Sifon choked down his cry, squeezing his teary eyes shut, hard enough to see stars.

"You didn't think I did all that pacing just to appear menacing, did you?" Kaon chuckled. He held out his hands; the golden cords were wrapped around his fingers. Just like puppet strings, or spider's silk. "Now, you see, while we mourn the loss of every Tronian you've been responsible for killing, there are four specific soldiers that caused our army great loss. And not only Jhiaxus."

Sifon tried to remain absolutely still, though found he was unable to stop his shaking. 

"I want you to say their names, and tell me how they died, going by the images and memories I planted in your mind," the mage ordered, simply.

"I--" Sifon cursed, as one of the many images from before suddenly thrust itself into his mind. He could see their name, the way they died. With as much effort as possible, he forced himself to answer. "V-Vanity... He... led... led the group. First t-to fight... the Pr-Primusians when they... ambushed..." He whimpered, the image of Vanity losing his weapon, the agile Primusian swordsman initiating the killing blow. Sifon cried and fell forward. "C-Cut in... in half...!"

"Correct," Kaon said quietly. He gave four of the strings in his hands a tug, and instantly the cords cut through Sifon's clothing, into his stomach, deep and deep until they tore through muscle. Sifon shrieked; it felt like he was slowly being sliced in half. Fortunately, the cords were clean and tight enough to keep him from bleeding. They stopped before they pierced any vital organs, however, remaining firm in place. 

"When they found Vanity," Kaon said, "he was only a one-armed torso. Vultures were feasting on his intestines and spilled organs. There was not much left of his face, either." He gave the strings another little tug. "Now, who is next?"

Sifon sobbed violently, unable to move without causing more intense pain. "I... Please..."

"Who is next, Sifon?"

Sifon cried, his lashes flicking against the string along his eyes. Kaon was patient, and Helex had busied himself finishing off any alcohol he could find. Finally, the traitor looked up, eyes bloodshot. "Ar'Dell. S-Strongest at the... the underground bun... bunk... bunker." He bowed his head, watching Ar'Dell die behind his closed lids. He was afraid to answer, knowing what Kaon would do. However, the mage gave the cords tearing into his stomach another pull, and all together he screeched, "Decapitated! Decapitated, oh _God, please, spare me_!"

"I will. For now. We're not done yet, after all," Kaon said. Four different lines tugged, this time digging into the flesh around Sifon's shoulders and neck. Not too tight, allowing the traitor to breathe, albeit rather haggardly. Sifon wailed as the pain increased in his broken shoulder, his arms forced hard against his back until something snapped. He dropped his head back, giving him a little more room to breathe around the string grinding against his throat.

"They found his head, and delivered it back to his tribe," Kaon said. "You're lucky we're the ones punishing you. Ar'Dell came from a village of cannibals who like to indulge on their victim's pain as they slowly eat them, piece by piece, bit by bit." He leaned forward, careful with handling the strings. "Now let's talk about Jhiaxus. You didn't see him die, but you did see his fresh corpse." He tilted his head inquisitively, batting gently at the strings along Sifon's eyes. "What did Jhiaxus look like, Sifon? How did he die?"

Sifon was blubbering and wailing, tears pouring down his sticky, wet cheeks. Kaon did not move, stayed much too close. With a whimper, Sifon finally cried, "Jhiaxus... died from. He died from... A..." He broke into another uncontrollable sob.

Helex rolled his eyes. "This coward's getting really annoying, you know."

"We're almost done."

"Can you speed it up a bit?"

Kaon sighed. "Well, if I must." He sat back again. "Jhiaxus died after a dagger was lodged into his head, through his mouth." With that, he yanked on two more cords in each hand; the cords along Sifon's mouth thrust back, digging into his cheeks and lips, tearing into flesh and muscles until they pushed against his tongue. Pushed until they nearly cut through, and Sifon was choking and gargling on his screams and blood.

"Lemme tell this one," Helex said, jumping forward. He squatted down beside Sifon. The traitor's face was covered in blood, the tears still rolling. "Scourge. Scourge was a rather interesting Tronian, don't you think? Well, you see, he died after you cut off the top of his head." He flicked Sifon's forehead, then looked to Kaon, gathering up two more strings. "Kaon will show you how it might have felt."

Kaon yanked on the cords. They sprung and then cut cleanly into Sifon's eyes, severing them in half. Sifon screamed; blood gushed from his mutilated eyes, pouring down his face with the rest of the fluids dribbling from his mouth. He was blind, now, but he could still see Helex's smile as he laughed uproariously.

"Now that you have seen the error of your ways, your Condemnation will now come to a close," Kaon said. He yanked the strings cleanly from Sifon's eyes, dragging out bits of gore. Continued freeing him of the strings buried in his mouth, around his throat, and shoulders. Once removed, blood surfaced from the wounds and soaked his skin and torn clothing. Sifon fell forward, coughing up nothing but blood. He hadn't noticed, however, that the few strings embedded in his stomach were still in place.

"Plth... plth... s... sthop..." Sifon pleaded, his tongue lolling in his mouth.

Kaon frowned. "What terrible last words," he said, and gave the remaining strings in his hands one final, hard tug. The cords lit up with heavy currents of electricity, and Sifon's entire body flailed and writhed with the shock. Smoke began to billow from charred, burning flesh, and the remains of his eyeballs popped from his sockets. His tongue came next, fried clean off, flopping in a puddle of blood and urine.

Kaon jerked at the cords; the electrocution stopped. The strings tightened, and following the crunch of bone and wet noises of severed organs, Sifon was snapped clean in half. Top half falling back, the bottom half into the puddle of fluids, both twitching and writhing still. Kaon opened his hands, and the strings simply disappeared.

Helex reached down and grabbed one of Sifon's broken arms. He couldn't feel any heat or the remnants of the electric charge. "Sorry to say, but you're not dead. Not yet. Kaon's magic over there is giving you another hour or so to wallow in your misery." He grinned. "But really, more as a favor to me. He had his fun with you, now it's my turn," he purred. Sifon made a disgusting, pained noise. Helex shouldered off the tank on his back, slammed it on the ground. Looked at Sifon with a laugh. "Whatta know!? Perfect fit!"

Kaon squatted before the remains of Sifon's bottom half. Reached down and touched the blood, rubbing it between his fingers. A shuffling noise caught his attention, and he looked back. A big smile on his face at the sight of a black, yellow eyed cat. "So there's two of you, then," he chuckled. He wiped the blood carelessly in smears on the wood floor, stood and went to retrieve the animal.

"Don't worry," Kaon said, and then Sifon was managing to actually scream again as he was slowly lowered into the tank of burning acid, "you're in no danger." He held out a hand, gesturing the cat over. Helex kicked the closed tank with a guffaw, and the cat immediately darted off. The mage frowned and stood up again.

"Remember to take him out ten minutes before the spell wears off," Kaon insisted. "We want to preserve his heart for Banshee, you know."

"Right, right," Helex snorted, high off Sifon's screaming.

"You made a right mess of the place."

Kaon and Helex looked to the door. The waitress - Rosanna - walked inside, shutting the door behind her. She frowned and tsked at all the carnage. 

"We apologize," Kaon replied, hands pressed together.

"There'll be Primusian officers here soon," Rosanna explained. "I'll just tell them you were going to kill us if we didn't leave. The others won't talk - too afraid or in debt to your people." She picked up Sifon's money bag. "Besides, this should be enough to cover the damages."

"So, uh, need help cleanin' the joint?" Helex asked. He propped a foot on a chair, leaned against it and gave the waitress a dirty grin.

Rosanna snorted. "No, thank you." She walked back toward the kitchen. "Ah. Right. I have Tarn's 'medicine' in the cold room." She gestured them over, down the hall. "Come with me."

Helex and Kaon followed shortly after. Rosanna removed a key hidden in her cleavage by a necklace. Helex leered; she just ignored him. She unlocked the door, pushed it open; clouds of biting frost swept past them.

"There's plenty to go around. Choose as many as you want," she said, and pointed to all the human bodies hanging from meat hooks. "I've got a lot in stock, you see."

\---

The yellow-eyed, white-furred beast paced in circles in the middle of the empty room. Twice the size of an average fox, she had talons thick as rock, and three whipping, fluffed tails. She growled, growing impatient, jaws open to display jagged teeth.

Just as the kitsune was about to take a rest, the fur on her back stood upright. She lifted her head, smelled the air, then turned to face her left. There, a small fluctuation of energy rippled in the darkness, and then a shower of red and purple. The energy spilled down into a puddle, until standing in its place was Kaon and Helex. The half-giant had a burlap sack hefted over shoulder with his cloaked tank.

The kitsune thrashed her tails excitedly. Kaon kneeled as she jumped in his arms. She smelled blood on the mage, and went about licking every bit of exposed skin. "You were waiting for so long. I'm sorry," he apologized, scratching behind one spiked ear. The kitsune thumped a foot. "While you're going to have to wait a bit longer for Sifon, Rosanna was very kind to offer something to tide you over."

Kaon opened the small sack hanging from his waist; the excited kitsune watched, panting. Carefully, he removed something wrapped in cloth, the size of his fist. It was dyed in red blood; Kaon peeled away the cloth, and held out the human heart to the kitsune. She gave a pleased howl and snatched the organ up in her jaws, turning away to lay down and chew up the heart slowly and carefully. Wanted to relish the taste before she finally gobbled it down.

Kaon stood and wiped off his hands. He looked back at Helex. "Do you want me to deliver Tarn's goods?" he offered.

Helex shook his head. "Nah," he replied. "I've been needin' to speak with him anyway." He dropped the thick bag on the floor, looking inside. "Rosanna gave us at least five more than Tarn ordered. Though I think one belongs to a teenager, judging the size of what's left of his head. I'm not sure if Tarn's big on those."

"Tarn relishes all minds. It may not carry much history and knowledge, but the memories are equally delicious," Kaon explained.

The kitsune gathered on her paws, whined toward the back of the room. Helex and Kaon turned; another spiral of light quivered in the air, then exploded. When the purple and red light disappeared, a giant, blank-faced man in armor stepped forward.

"Tesarus," Helex smirked. "Always a sight for sore eyes."

"Hrm," Tesarus grumbled back.

"How was Niradac? Did you succeed in taking care of her?" It was a rhetorical question, and Kaon punctuated it with a little grin.

A hiss followed sudden movement, and then a red-eyed, gangly creature jumped off Tesarus's back. Vos held out his hand to Kaon, spread his fingers; eight, bright purple eyeballs. 

"Hope the witch wasn't much trouble for you, with her being all tiny and thin and only using magic," Helex said, sneering at the scarred half-giant.

"Hrm." Tesarus looked to Vos. "I will speak to Tarn. The eyes you can keep." He rolled his shoulders. "He only eats brains anyway."

Helex raised a hand. "I'll go with you," he said, joining him. "I've got to report to Tarn and give him his 'medicine', too." He shook the bag of heads, then looked over Tesarus's person. "Hope you got Niradac's brain on you somewhere. Don't want to disappoint the boss, you know."

Tesarus glowered, then snorted. He headed off, Helex chuckling snidely and following.

It was just Vos, Kaon, and the kitsune now. The beast had laid back down to nibble and suckle on the heart some more.

" _Icef_ ," Vos hissed, his voice low but sharp. He pointed to his crimson eyes. " _Icef umati_."

Kaon smiled. "Yes, of course," he agreed, nodding. He gestured to the exit. "Shall we take our leave, then?"

\---

Kaon's room was rather large, kept neat and tidy. He welcomed Vos inside, and headed into his walk-in closet. Vos was familiar with this room; his quarters were smaller, more cluttered. The elf glided over to the table, laid out with books and scrolls on incantations and spells. His steel claws drew lines over the glyphs along one piece of paper; he could read this language, but understanding it still proved a little difficult.

"As far as usual Condemnations go, Sifon was rather pathetic."

Kaon stepped out from the closet, wearing something more light and comfortable. "You'll probably get bored," he said.

" _So'f_ ," Vos replied. He turned from the table.

"The bed has always been the most comfortable," Kaon said. He quickly removed a few of the sheets and blanket, folded and placed them aside neatly. The elf was perched on his headboard like a gargoyle a second later.

"Is something wrong?"

Vos tugged at the cloth hiding the bottom half of his face. " _Lahdo_."

Kaon thought a moment. "Oh," he said, laughed. "The scent is new, yes. I've been practicing somnosis."

" _Cohald_? _Na_?"

"Not entirely. I'm fine."

Vos reached out a long, thin arm, threading fingers lightly into the mage's red hair. "Don't be concerned," Kaon insisted.

The elf stared at Kaon, just a head taller than him. He hopped onto the bed and back on the ground a moment later. Quickly stripping himself of unnecessary armor, including the steel claws on his hands. He pointed to the bed when he was finished. "Duh-oun."

Kaon knew that wasn't Unseelien. Down - had to mean down. "We need to work more on your pronunciation." Nonetheless, he obliged, climbing onto the bed. Vos watched as he laid back against the pillow, hands on his chest. Once he was relaxed, the elf crawled back onto the bed, then on top of the mage; straddled his hips, sat, and leaned forward.

" _Icef_ ," Vos murmured smoothly. He carefully placed both hands on the sides of the mask obscuring Kaon's eyes. It clicked as he took it off, slowly, then sat it down on the bed beside them.

Kaon opened his eyes. The irises and pupils were covered in thick milky white and grey. He smiled, a haunting look. Vos took his face in his hands, smoothed lines beneath and above his eyes with his thumbs. Kaon hummed and kept his gaze forward, "staring" into Vos's.

" _Isti_ ," the elf purred, continuing to work circles around the mage's eyes. " _Isti_." His fingers dragged down Kaon's face, back up, once more holding the sides of his head. Thumbs planted firmly beneath those blind eyes. He leaned forward, until his forehead was pressed against Kaon's. Eyes still open, narrowed.

" _Mar m'tinn t'a y'tinn. S'e mar fi'o d'fis_ ," Vos murmured, and the mage made a small noise. The elf's eyes went hooded as he finished, "oh- _pen_ ," and closed his eyes.

The penetration had been quick, and painless. Kaon had since been used to Vos entering his mind and memories. He was back in the tavern, and Sifon had just tried to plunge a dagger through his throat. He turned, now-fire red eyes on Vos. The elf was perched on a table nearby, studying Sifon in suspended animation; he had plucked the first cat up from the memory, and was now stroking it calmly in his lap.

"The case was mine, so perhaps you did not know of Sifon's crimes," Kaon said. Time sped up again, until jerking to a halt after Helex had slammed the traitor onto his knees. "It is a bit of a long story," he explained, "but he was behind four very important deaths."

Kaon pointed, and then was sitting in the chair in front of Sifon, bound in the glowing strings. "Vanity," he said, and snapped his fingers. The string cut into the traitor's stomach, and a sudden backdrop took over the cavern, playing out recollections and images of Vanity's severed body like a movie. "Ar'Dell." Another snap of fingers; the cords tightened around Sifon's shoulders and throat, and the images of Vanity quickly slipped to Ar'Dell's head rolling on the ground. "Jhiaxus." Strings ripped through Sifon's mouth and tongue, and Jhiaxus appeared as a crumpled mess behind Kaon, a sword wedged through his mouth and skull.

"Finally: Scourge," Kaon finished. Scourge's face filled the background, the top of his head missing, exposing his brain. Sifon's cry was muffled as his eyes were cut in half and gushing blood. "The Condemnation was almost done." The traitor's body lit up with an electric shock.

Vos put the cat down and stood. He walked up to Sifon, frozen again; touched his face. He looked at the blood on his fingers, then to Kaon. " _Rocma_ ," he growled and shook his hand angrily.

"I thought the same thing," Kaon agreed. He raised his hand, and the world began to shiver and waver, before flashing into the future. Helex was lowering Sifon's top half into his acid tank. "I used a spell you taught me, you see. It will keep him alive another hour, despite all the damage he's been put through." The mage sliced his hand aside, and the tank door opened; the acid did not spill out, even as Sifon's charred, melting body inside struggled and writhed, screaming hysterically. "His heart will be given to the kitsune."

" _Anm. Anm ar tu_."

"I haven't really given her an official name, but I usually address her as... Banshee."

Vos cocked a thin brow.

"Named after one of your Great Mothers," Kaon chuckled. "I thought it fit our little pet."

" _Ain bh'lach_."

"Around this time Rosanna returned," Kaon said. Popping out of thin air, Rosanna was at the door, scowling at the mess. "We assured--"

" _Stad_!"

Kaon blinked and looked to Vos. The elf had scuttled up to Sifon's bottom half. He waved his hands over the remains, froze, then snapped out a hand. He yanked something from the pants pocket, held it up to admire it in the faux sunlight.

"Find something interesting?" Kaon asked.

Vos waved the tiny, blue pearl at his comrade. " _Siren_! _Siren tear_!"

Kaon was surprised. "Those are rather valuable, and rare. I'm certain a Primusian must have given it to him in form of payment."

Vos clapped the pearl in both hands. " _Tha'hairt_ ," he insisted.

Kaon frowned. "Had I known he was carrying a siren tear, I would have brought it back. But, I suppose..." He tapped his chin. "Will it lose its value if it's mnemic?"

Vos shook his head. " _Nac dhi_ ," he explained. Brought the pearl close to his eyes again. " _Ola Iora. Nac dhi Ola Iora_."

"Right. Only the experts would notice it's a mnemic duplication, then." Kaon sighed and shrugged. "If it is your desire, you may take it from me."

" _Mai_..." Vos tilted his head. "Goodduh."

Kaon smirked. "Close enough." He held out a hand, and the tavern began to melt into blackness. "Then you've seen all you've desired. Take the mnemic. Clutch it tight."

Vos nodded and closed his eyes. Kaon closed his eyes as well, took a deep breath, and fell into the suffocating darkness.

Vos opened his eyes. Kaon was still under, albeit twitching. The elf quickly drew his forehead away, sat back. The mage grimaced, gripping the blankets. 

" _So'air so'air so'air_ ," Vos hummed, pushing up the front of Kaon's top. His chest was heaving, just slightly; Vos pressed his finger in between the mage's closed eyes, dragged it down the length of his face, down his throat, right over his heart, all the while murmuring something too fast, something too quiet.

Vos drew a circle over his heart. Kaon jerked beneath him, gasped. The elf remained focused, and slowly the ring he drew manifested in purple light. " _Laithri_ ," he growled, and the mage beneath arched his back, teeth grinding.

Blood pooled within the purple circle, but did not spill over the lines. A droplet slowly emerged into the air, dripping; once cleaned, it took on a different shape. A blue pearl floating in place. Vos quickly took the pearl, snapped, " _Laithri'no_." Immediately, the blood disappeared, the ring closing and sealing tight, and Kaon fell back against the bed with a soft groan.

Vos waited for Kaon to wake, studying the smell mnemic pearl. The mage grumbled, opening his milky eyes a minute later. "I'm... still getting used to... used to mnemoplasmic transfertation," he breathed, cracking a tired smile. He looked around, but not directly at the elf. "Did it work?"

"Yeh-sss." Vos took one of the mage's hands, rolled the blue pearl along his palm.

Kaon smiled a little wider. " _Maith_ ," he chortled.

Vos leaned down, nuzzling his forehead against Kaon's. He stroked his hair tenderly. " _U'ais_ ," he purred, nails scratching down the mage's scalp. His free hand reached down, slipped between his legs, and pressed.

Kaon shivered, thighs twitching, closing just a little. "I'm... always welcome to your hospitality," he chortled.

Vos returned the chortle, nearly matching the mage's pitch. "Ahs wish." He sat back, hands moving away. He dropped fingers from Kaon's hair, setting free once neatly restrained hair. Two of his fingers tapped against the mage's lips. Kaon's lids drooped; shaky hands raised to hold the elf's, guiding his fingers into his mouth. He rubbed them against his tongue, mindful of the claws, before resorting to sucking. 

Vos purred, pleased. He helped to work his fingers, pumping them in and out his mouth, but never past his knuckles. He sat up on his knees, free hand working to push down Kaon's pants and undergarments, leaving them to bundle at his knees. He placed his hand against Kaon's bare thigh, moved it up and underneath the sleeved shirt. The mage quivered, opened his mouth to take a gulp of hot air.

The elf removed Kaon's hand around his wrist, but kept his fingers inside the mage's gaping mouth, drawing circles against his tongue. He placed Kaon's hand on his hip, a silent order; the mage forced up his second hand, licked Vos's fingers as he clumsily pulled down his pants. Vos sat up, removing his digits, and grunted; he quickly shed his pants and garments, tossed them on the ground. Kaon opened his mouth again to speak, but then the elf's fingers were thrust back inside, pumping harder this time.

Vos waited another minute before removing them again. Soaked in saliva. He scissored index and middle fingers open and closed, then went back to work. He situated himself between the mage's legs now, stretched over his torso, face to face. Vos's soaked hand reached beneath Kaon, who shivered, preparing himself. The elf enjoyed the look of surprise on the mage's face when he slipped in one wet finger, then another.

Kaon wiggled, trying to relax his clenching muscles. Vos scowled, pinned down one of his shoulders. The mage took a deep breath and finally laid back. The fingers pushed in further, and began scissoring open and close, spreading him apart.

"I-I... Please..." Kaon whimpered, struggling to formulate words, shuffling around Vos between his legs. He reached up, cupped the back of the hooded elf's head. Pulled him closer, just a little, and then pushed down on those fingers. Hips undulating, needing, wanting more friction. Vos sneered, squinting; he twisted both his fingers and the mage choked on a yelp, digging nails into his hood.

Vos finally drew his digits back, studied them again. Kaon groaned, falling against the bed. The elf turned aside, eyed the nearby table. Only one suitable thing he could see - thick, smooth, the liquid would work. " _Tar'a_!" he snapped. The bottle shook and then flew from the table; the elf raised his hand just in time to catch it.

Kaon laughed breathlessly. "O-Oh the wonders of m-magic."

"Indee'."

"Close enough."

Vos snorted. He yanked out the cork in the small bottle, placed it under his mask to smell. Just as he expected; safe to use. He dumped a good amount of the white liquid into his hands, smeared his fingers in the mess until they were completely coated. He had not addressed his own erection, and went to prep himself. Vos made one tiny noise during the process, stroking himself, and Kaon was moaning again, hips wriggling.

After applying a suitable amount of the lotion, Vos shifted, getting comfortable. Squeezed one of the mage's thighs, pushing him open just a few inches more. Kaon was waiting with baited breath.

Without another word, Vos pushed himself inside.

Expectedly, it took a moment for Kaon to relax, accepting the girth; Vos waited only a few seconds, however. He slouched forward, hands planted firmly against the mattress, and pushed. Once, twice, slowly, until Kaon was finally comfortable. He pumped in and out, keeping a steady rhythm, his eyes locked with the mage's. Kaon was trying to keep quiet, but every few seconds, he'd let a moan or whimper escape.

A few minutes in, and Vos picked up the pace, just a few notches. Nonetheless, this earned him a small cry. Kaon's fingers scrambled into the sheets before he raised his hands, fondling clumsily along the elf's neck, down his arms, further down, until his fingers dug into Vos's knuckles. Vos grunted, snapped his hips with one rather fierce push. The mage keened, nails tearing at the elf's hands.

Vos leaned down, his hidden tongue drawing heavy circles around Kaon's nipples. One first, then the other. Kaon huffed, bucking, chest pressed against the elf's mouth. Vos continued caressing his nipples with a few more licks and a couple delicate suckles before sitting up.

Vos closed his eyes, forcing himself into the fastest pace both of them could withstand. His pelvis hitting repeatedly against Kaon's with quiet thumps. Paused to pull himself nearly entirely out before thrusting in with full force. Kaon mewled; his fingers desperately pawed at the elf's hood and face, tugging. Vos understood; he slipped one clawed hand beneath the mage's left knee, hefted the leg back and then up to rest on his shoulder. More room at this angle, hitting all those sensitive spots.

Vos pushed chest to chest with Kaon, feeling the mage's erection grind and rub against his belly. Making a mess of his clothing, but he honestly couldn't give a shit at the moment. With his face close now, Kaon quickly went about peppering the mask and around the elf's eyes with chaste kisses.

The elf continued working, hips rolling. He then lifted the mask-cloth, leaned in to give Kaon a kiss on the mouth, dropping it back in place. Kaon squealed and stiffened for a second before relaxing again. Vos closed his eyes as he kissed, something fierce and demanding. The mage returned with the same compassion, and a moment later, two tracks of blood ran down his chin to drip at the edge.

The two ground against one another, keeping their mouths locked in a kiss. More blood began to spill down Kaon's chin, but he did not turn away. The mage's hands slipped over Vos's back; fingers clutched down, and then the elf was shivering and moaning as soft, but tingling currents of electricity ran through his bones. Kaon flexed his fingers, up and then down in feline fashion, each shove back down sending more wonderful gushes of electricity. In return, Vos thrust harder, pushing and curling Kaon back until his rear was almost off the mattress.

Then, with a strangled grunt, Vos lifted his head, mask falling back in place. Kaon was panting, mouth bloodied; he kept his arms wrapped around the elf's neck, riding down on his cock.

Just enough, just enough, and Vos sat upright, spine still tingling with the remnants of the electric currents. He hissed as he came, filling Kaon, who jolted at the warm sensation. The elf took a moment to rest, catching his breath, when he finished; he wiped under his mask, removing a smear of blood. Kaon was whimpering, still desperately needing to come.

Vos stretched his fingers before wrapping them firmly around Kaon's erection. The mage locked up for a second, but as Vos began stroking, he gradually relaxed. Kaon threw his arms back, clawing into the headboard, crying and mewling. It didn't take long before he came, spilling his own seed along his chest. Now they were even with messy clothes.

Vos released him and sat back. He let his system wind back down. Kaon was panting, his skin tingling and sweaty, the blood drying around his mouth. Once stable, Vos pulled himself free, the mage shuddering at the sensation and sudden emptiness.

They sat and laid there another minute or two, collecting themselves. Vos swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He shoved the cork back into the half-full bottle of white cream, walked over to the table, and put it back in place.

At the sudden _click_ , Vos turned; Kaon had sat up, ignoring the shooting pain in his back. He pushed the golden mask back in place on his face, frowning; looking solemn once again. He reached behind him, finding the wet spot in the bed. "We should probably clean ourselves up," he suggested.

"Agg-rneed."

"Close enough."

**Author's Note:**

> OH BOY.
> 
> I wanted to use more "organic" names instead of robotic. The Autobot equivalent is Primusian; obviously, Tronian is the Decepticon equivalent.
> 
> Sifon is not a canon character, and though his name can be pronounced as Sif-on, I named him after the word siphon, which is pronounced like sy-fun. Vanity is also not a canon character.
> 
> Rosanna, however, is a canonical character, specifically her TFA incarnation. Canonically, [Rosanna](http://tfwiki.net/wiki/Rosanna_%28Animated%29) is a Decepticon spy undercover, known as Flipsides. Hence why Rosanna is the spy planted in the Primusian city, among others. Jhiaxus and Scourge are well known canon characters as well.
> 
> Ar'Dell and Niradac are canon characters, too. If you can figure out who they are, then you get virtual cookies! Seriously, it's really not that hard.
> 
> Oh, and that bit where Tesarus and Kaon just snap their fingers, and everyone in the tavern just quietly get up and leave? Yes, that was totally ripped off from _Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows_ , and I've NO shame. For those interested, [this is the exact scene](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qgMPOwt9S-A). Boners.
> 
> Tarn eats brains in this fic because he believes he gains the knowledge and memories of the person. I could have had him eat hearts, but I felt brains made more sense. Also, Tarn isn't a sparkeater, anyway.
> 
> Banshee, however, is, and based on the [sparkeater turbofox](http://tfwiki.net/wiki/The_Pet) owned by the DJD. I made her female, and a [kitsune](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitsune), which is a mythical Japanese fox spirit, and one of my favorite mythical creatures. Her name, Banshee, comes from the well known Irish spirit; those who hear her scream are soon destined to die. She's usually seen around those who will die or are dying. Also, since Banshee prefers to chew sparks, she chews on the heart.
> 
> Which brings us to Vos. You're asking, what the fuck did I write when he talked? I decided to apply Irish lore to Vos's origins. As such, what he speaks is actually just Irish Gaelic words scrambled and edited and thrown together; a few words were just made up. This form of muddled Irish Gaelic he's speaking is called Unseelien, after the [Unseelie folk](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unseelie#Seelie_and_Unseelie_Courts). Vos is part of the Unseelie Court, so yeah. He's speaking in shattered sentences and one-worded nonsense, because WHATEVER, and also Kaon's still learning. I'm not bothering providing translations for everything he said; LET YOUR IMAGINATION RUN FREE.
> 
> Also, when he kisses Kaon, there's lots of blood. I like the idea that Vos has fangs, heehee.
> 
> I won't go into details on the spells the two dudes used, but I'm sure you can guess by the words I've used, ala mnemic and somnosis. The mnemic thing was just for funsies, though there's a little plot hole.
> 
> Also, there was a lot of Kaon. I WONDER WHY THAT COULD BE. I also wrote a sequel of sorts following Tarn, but... We'll see how this goes.


End file.
